Your Real Name
by APenName
Summary: When Amber approaches Corny for extra dance help after the Miss Teenage Hairspray pageant, Corny gradually learns to respect her while Amber learns to let go of her old self. Will expand this into a full-length story if reviews are favourable.
1. Chapter 1

He looked at her street clothes, high heels and teased hair in moderate disgust and exasperation. "How do you expect to practice in those? You're not on camera you know. What you wear really doesn't matter and if you're constantly worried about your hair and whether your make-up is melting or your stockings have run there's really no point in extra rehearsal."

He himself was wearing a ratty old varsity t-shirt and loose trousers.

"Amber if you're really serious about improving yourself, you have to realise. It's not about what you're wearing or how you look on camera. You've already got those things. We're here to work on your dancing and you are going to get dirty, sweaty, tired and messy". He noticed that at every word she flinched a little, as if the thought of not being her immaculately presented self was as horrifying as watching a small animal being killed in front of her. Well tough luck.

"I'm not your mother who insists that everyone is attired for rehearsal like they are going to a cocktail party. Clearly you weren't learning very much under her and there's a reason for that. Real dancing isn't about appearance and formality but understanding the music and your body. And there's no way that THOSE CLOTHES" a point which he emphatically emphasised with a pointing finger, "are going to cut it in MY rehearsal."

He looked in satisfaction at her slightly open mouth and taken back expression. Now that should have put the little Miss Priss back in her place a little-

"Then why is your hair still glued into place with about half a can of hairspray? If you really didn't care about appearances when you rehearse you wouldn't bother would you?"

-bit. DRAT the sly minx.

He stifled his involuntary cry of exasperation, determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had rattled him, and settled instead for an internal retort. HA internal yeah right. When had he and amber ever tried to swallow their provoking comments? Their biting sarcastic exchanges on and off camera were well known. While he did try to stay silent, to take the high road so to speak, her entitled and spoilt princess routine only fuelled his resentment of her mother's influence and persistent pushing of her daughter, who honestly would never have been the brightest star on the show but for her mother's constant intervention. And his hair was NOT glued into place. A little hairspray never hurt anyone, especially when you got a free supply of ultra-clutch which was enough to last you an entire lifetime.

Internally engaged as he was in his calm and intelligent reverie - okay fine exasperated rant, it took him a while to realise she had begun speaking again.

"But corny, I understand the point of what you're trying to tell me. It's just that I've just always well….been _expected_ to dress this way. Sometimes I feel like if I'm not this perfectly attired person I don't know who I am anymore. Especially when everything else has changed so much. Besides, It's not like you gave me any instructions. Just told me to meet you at the studio. How was I to know that you were going to fly into a fit of rage at something as trivial as my dressing. That being said, I understand and will try to dress a little more….practically at next rehearsal, if you'll continue teaching me that is. Is that good enough?"

Her expression as she said this changed from her earlier smug smirk at pointing out the flaw in his argument to a more subdued and reproachful look. As he studied her face and mulled over her words, her hesitant last sentences became more revealing. She was afraid he wouldn't even give her a chance, and this was probably as close to an apology as she could muster. While her stance was as straight and proud as ever, her eyes betrayed her inner apprehension and anxiety. It was enough to wake the inconvenient do-gooder he called his conscience, which proceeded to prod him with a vengeance. Sighing, he reached up to run his hand through his hair, before stopping himself short in case he mussed his 'do. _Hmmmm perhaps she had a point about the whole hair thing._

"Fine how about I make you a deal? I know this is uncomfortable for you. I know that your prissy clothes reflect the image you want to reflect , but I'm willing to forgo my hairspray if you will stop dressing like you're ready to walk to red carpet at the Oscars. Deal?"

* * *

><p>This time she was wearing what must have passed as rehearsal clothes to her. A simple cotton shift dress over dance tights and low shoes. Her blonde hair was simply pulled back into a low knot at the back of her head. He stifled a laugh that she had been unable to forgo her lashes and lipstick though. All in all, she looked much fresher. Less like a younger image of Velma Von Tussel and more like a pretty, softer version of herself.<p>

_He looked different_, was her first thought as she caught sight of him in the deserted studio that weekend. With his dark hair falling naturally onto his forehead, he looked much more relaxed. Fresher. Younger. How old was he? She would normally have guessed over 25, but with his tousled hair and casual clothes he looked much nearer her age. Had Velma ever mentioned it? She remembered her mother yelling at him a few months ago, calling him an upstart who had barely graduated years ago. So that would probably place him about 22 or 23 as opposed to her 17 years. Not such a big difference as she would have thought seeing him on set in his suit and (in her opinion) overly-styled hair.

Smiling, he said, "Much better Miss Von Tussle. Care to dance?"

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><p>It wasn't easy though. Amber was sadly not the most natural mover. "No! you have to really feel the music, the beat. Count 5, 6, 7, 8 and then launch yourself into the steps and STICK to it. Make sure you balance your body weight with your alternate hand as you switch feet or you WILL keep falling over." He usually restricted himself to directing from the sidelines and demonstrating occasionally. Somehow, the sight of her prancing around on the empty sound stage had been hilarious at the beginning. If you counted being fiendishly amused that the daughter of your enemy stumbling around off-beat, balefully glaring at you half the time as hilarious. However, as they continued their weekly secret practice, or <em>closed rehearsal<em> as Amber would have preferred it called, he gradually developed a grudging respect for her dogged persistence. A lesser man, or woman he corrected himself, would have quit ages ago. The snide looks and cutting remarks the others cast her way would surely not have been lost on her. However she was, to his honest surprise, gracefully stepping out of the spotlight to give way to Inez and ignoring what others were clearly muttering about her. Whilst a few months ago he might have viewed this as a natural pride and arrogance which seemed to come to her so easily, he was being unwillingly convinced that this change was genuine.

In addition, she was genuinely starting to show improvement. He wasn't sure if it was due to the additional practice, for surely Velma would have drilled her mercilessly at home in the past, or the fact that she seemed to be developing a better musical awareness due to his insistent emphasis on musical feeling. Dance muscle memory could be learnt, but it required an understanding of the choreography and the roots of it's musical accompaniment for a dancer to make it look effortless and natural, rather than forced. He had a nagging feeling that while the old Amber Von Tussle had clearly been a pretty face for viewers to notice, this new Amber was someone he could finally begin to respect.

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><p>As their private rehearsals intensified she had long given up wearing make-up or carefully arranging her hair. Her current rehearsal clothes, which Velma would have promptly deemed "unsuitable" and dispatched to the rag-bag, were nonetheless, incredibly comfortable and freeing. A feeling she had grown increasingly addicted to, though she would never admit it to anyone else. Her daily application of make-up, blister-inducing high heels and uncomfortably tight dresses which had seemed a necessity to her before now seemed overly fussy and time-consuming. Though she still did care somewhat about her appearance as she proudly surveyed the lovely flaring of her deep blue and purple wrap skirt as she spun -Abruptly, Corny's shout brought her sharply back to the present.<p>

"Twist, Turn, Spin, Grapevine. Come on Amber keep your mind on it! Never mind, take a fiver."

She collapsed next to him on the edge of the stage, cheeks pink with exertion, blonde curls falling around her face despite her strategically placed pencil to anchor her hair at the back of her head. Lying back on the stage with her legs dangling off the side she tried to regain her breath. Beside her, Corny mirrored her pose, similarly winded and breathless. After a few moments of silence while they both regained their breath, Amber ventured a question she'd been wondering about for some time.

"Corny, is that actually your real name? It just seems somewhat odd to have your parents christen you corny. Isn't that a little…well _cheesy_?"

"Very funny you brat" Their bickering had taken on a much friendlier tone these days. "Well to tell you the truth, my real name is Thaddeus Cornelius Collins. But it just seemed a bit of a mouthful so the studio shortened it to something catchier. Get my drift?"

"Then why don't you ever call yourself that? As far as I know, no one even knows your real name."

The teasing atmosphere lost some of its lightness as he mused over her last question before he answered thoughtfully.

"You know what, I don't believe I have. Apart from you just now obviously. It just seemed like I had a persona to fill. That when I was Corny Collins, star and host of my own show I was a different person. When I was a kid, I played baseball and went to school and helped out with chores at home same as everyone. The boy I was before, he had big dreams. But he wasn't getting anywhere. My parents…well they didn't agree with my dreams. When I finally got my big break, maybe I felt the name came with the charm, the smile, the girls- OUCH did you have to hit my arm? Fine just kidding about the girls. There aren't any pretty ones."

He yelped again as Amber hit him again, harder this time in his already tingling shoulder. Laughing at her disgruntled face he retorted "Nothing makes you happy does it? Better watch that expression. Your face may freeze that way and then I wouldn't be lying when I said there weren't any pretty girls around me."

However, instead of laughing in return, she propped herself up on her shoulder so she was looking down on him sideways. There was something about her uncharacteristically thoughtful manner and contemplative blue eyes which gave him pause.

"You know what? I think that you need to realise that a name doesn't define who you are _Thaddeus_. You'd still be the same person even if your name was Genghis Kahn. And if you insist on clinging to a name because it defines who you are, what will you have after it ends? Will you know who you are? And maybe you just want to forget that little boy from a small town who hungered for something more, but that determination made you. You shouldn't be ashamed of where you come from. And I think your parents would be so proud of you now. Whether you're a dance show host or a pig farmer, you're good and noble and honest. You're more than just a cardboard smiling, dancing host. And I wish everyone could see the person you are behind the huge smile and the corny name."

All he could do was stare at her seriously intent face. Thinking about it, what he had just said and how she had answered had pretty much been a reminder of things he had avoided thinking about for ages. Hearing her words, he was struck by a maturity and sensitivity he had rarely seen in her before. Much less on behalf of anyone other than herself. _I wonder what else I don't know about her. As much as I realise I need to re-examine myself, perhaps I did pigeon-hole everyone else to early as well. Especially Amber. _At a loss for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say, that could show her the gratitude and ease he felt in that moment. So he settled for the obvious. "Thanks." On a sudden spur of inspiration he added "And Amber, why don't you call me Thad?"

The sudden brilliant flashing of her smile that lit up the room, and the radiant joy that filled her sky blue eyes caused him to be momentarily blinded, making him blink and gape like an idiot. If he had been a younger boy, he would have sworn what he was feeling at this moment was his heart turning over in his chest as he gazed at her. But even he couldn't deny the wonderfully painful yearning and twisting in his gut and his conflicting desires to laugh out loud for sheer joy or jump into a cold pond to cool his flushed face. And that's when he realised, Amber was _**beautiful**_. Not merely just another pretty girl, but the most stunning and lovely woman he had ever come across.


	2. Prologue

Thanks to all those who have commented and also those you have followed, favorited or simply read and appreciated the first chapter. Due to the positive feedback I will indeed continue to update. The following chapter is actually the prologue to the first chapter. I know its a bit confusing and many of you are keen to know what happens next, but I think that this gives some important background information that will be important for plot development later on. I promise the next update will further the story chronologically.

Special note to **Pwettygurl**: I never knew about the Thad in Seaweed's detention gang. I just loved the name and decided to use it to flesh out Corny Collins abit. Thanks for telling me :) I hope you have a great run in your performance!

Hope you all Enjoy!

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

She sighed as she slammed her locker shut and prepared to face another day at school. _Good Morning Baltimore whoo-whee_. However, this time instead of being a mini celebrity it was another day of barely concealed smirks and sneers as her once-friends-now-turned-enemies-after-the-fall-of-the-ice-princess gossiped about her behind her back.

_Okay Amber, nothing for it. Head up, shoulders back, back straight and glide forward. Don't look at anyone, just pretend that you're walking alone to class because you don't feel like talking to anyone. NOT because it's just been revealed that your mother has probably been rigging the votes for you to win Miss Teenage Hairspray since forever and you've gone from having the hottest boyfriend, leading dance role on The Corny Collins Show and tons of "friends" to becoming a complete social pariah._

In her mind, it was almost like she had two lives. The life before the apocalyptical Miss Teenage Hairspray Pageant and the life after. In this new life, you walked tall, pretended you were deaf and generally tried to act as if being alone was what you had wanted all along anyway. This was Day 2 of Amber's new life.

_Oh no_. Up ahead was a group of Council Members. Resisting the urge to duck her head and run, she briskly continued walking in a straight line down the hallway. She wasn't quick enough though.

'I feel sooooooo sorry for her.' A grating voice squealed in a voice dripping with faux sympathy.

'It must be so embarrassing knowing that her boyfriend chose Tracy Turnblad over her. I mean, it's virtually like saying I hate being with you so much that I'd rather be with someone I have to kiss with the lights off forever.'

'But then after all, it was obvious that Amber's mother bought Link for her just like she bought her that place on the show. She'd never have made it otherwise. She hasn't got an ounce of talent.'

'Did you see her trying to do the stricken chicken last week? She looked like a flat-footed duck waddling around. Quack Quack!'

Loud peals of laughter exploded from all the girls dressed in their full pastel skirts standing near the water fountain. Only Tammy had the grace to look a little ashamed, glancing at Amber apologetically, but not daring to speak up against the coven.

_That was it_. She fled down the hallway to the main doors. Who needed school anyway? She'd go to Mr Spritzer. With all the bad press she was sure she was getting, he'd no doubt be thrilled to let her leave the show and then she would take a bus, a train, a plane and go far away. Anything but stay here.

* * *

><p>'But what do you mean you won't release me from my contract? How can you want me to stay on?'<p>

Mr Spritzer greeted her open-mouthed exclamation of surprise with a wide and somewhat patronizing smile. Sitting back in his large leather chair, he folded his arms across his wide belly.

'Well you see young lady, its very simple. With the new integration of the show, we're not after the old cookie-cutter good girls and boys image of the past. We've got to move on. Got to keep viewers interested y'know. Hundreds of new viewers are now watching! People will keep tuning in to see what happens to the drama between you, Inez, Tracy and all the new kids. It's going to be HUGE!

'So basically you want me to stay on so that the viewers have someone to hate?' She bit her lip. Hard. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_.

'Well Miss Von Tussle, with your mother sadly….indisposed at the moment. I am in charge of this studio and this show. And whatever the reasons for my intentions to retain you as per the contract which YOU signed might I add, you should be happy to still have a job young lady. A very coveted place on a very popular show in fact. You may of course choose to leave when it expires, which is- a pause to rifle through some papers- two weeks before the others since you were the first council member to sign on two weeks before everybody else. So yes. You can leave two weeks before next September.'

Inside she felt like screaming, bursting into tears and throwing herself onto the floor. But that was only possible in her old life. In her new life she simply stood up and said 'Thank you for your time Mr Spritzer'. _Good Amber. Now walk out the door, calmly. Show him what a Von Tussle is made of. Please please let me make it out of here before I cry._

* * *

><p>Side kick left, side kick right, open coat flare, front slide right.<em> Now what else can I add to this combination? <em>Maybe those new Negro kids would be able to add some new steps to his repertoire. Life in the old dog yet. _Better prove it to yourself Collins. Stop lazing around and get back to work._

It'd been awhile since he'd had free rein in choreographing a dance number he mused distractedly. Normally, Velma vetoed almost half of his routine, sanitized it from the "filth" she believed he was trying to indoctrinate Baltimore with and then taught it to the kids herself. Life would be good without that battleaxe -

He whipped his head around as a slender figure in a white dress burst into the rehearsal room, interrupting his reverie.

'I'm sorry Miss but this is a private – **_AMBER_**?'

He blinked. Yes his eyes were not deceiving him. Speak of the devil. But what was Amber doing here during school time? Was she crying?

At the sound of his voice, her shocked face rose to meet his incredulous gaze. Tear tracks ran down her cheeks and her eyes were wide and scared. He should have been ecstatic. He should have been gloating over the obvious downfall of the Von Tussle family. And alright maybe he had. Just a little. Last night. If you counted dancing around your own living room singing _Ding-Dong the Witch is dead. Which old witch? The wicked witch!_ Which was really, honestly, perfectly normal when you were imagining Velma as the devil and Amber as her equally evil (and annoying) devil spawn.

But now, her usually perfect make-up was smudged and her nose was pink and slightly runny from crying. He didn't think he'd ever seen her this…_human_ before. The shock on her face when she realised she wasn't alone was fading and she turned to leave without a word. He felt a twinge of guilt. Cursing his conscience he sighed.

'No look Amber, I'm sorry ok? You don't need to leave. Will you tell me what's wrong?'

'You don't normally give the time of day Corny. I don't know why you're asking me what's wrong and I certainly don't need to tell you. You hate me remember?'

_'Well you're right. I hated you until you became so pitiful that I felt sorry for you'_ said his brain. 'No I don't.' said his mouth.

She just looked disbelievingly at him. Okay fine, perhaps he would have looked the same way if she'd told him that too. But it was different now. Now she was crying and upset and he felt like an ogre at how happy he had been last night when her whole world must have come crashing down on her head. He could afford to be generous couldn't he?

'Look. Take this hanky and dry your face and then tell me what's wrong. I promise I won't laugh at you. And it's perfectly fine to cry.'

'I'm not crying' she said automatically. But it was a half-hearted attempt and they both knew it. 'What are you doing here anyway?'

'For your information, I work here. Also, I was choreographing a new routine for the show. Now stop stalling and spill.'

With a wry smile, she took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. However, the smile faded as she looked down at the tightly clenched hands and began to mumble incoherently.

As far as Corny could make out it sounded like 'It's just…the other council kids at school. I know I'm not…my contract. He won't release me from it… I mean. I need some extra help with my dancing.'

He was still trying to figure out what she had said when her last sentence hit him like a sledge load of bricks. Amber Von Tussle was asking for help? From**_him? _**It made sense really. With her mother gone, the only person who would know the routines beforehand and thus be able to help her before the show was him. They both knew that Amber needed all the help she could get.

He wanted to say no. He really did. But she was looking up at him through huge blue eyes and with her smudged eye liner and white dress she looked like a pertinent angel. And he just couldn't.

'Meet me on the studio sound stage on Sunday then. Nine o'clock sharp. It'll be quiet and we can bring the mirrors out so you can see yourself while you practice. And don't tell Velma. I don't want another scene on my hands.'

Amber was staring at him flabbergasted. He wasn't sure if it was because she had actually broken down and asked him for help. Or because he had agreed.

He picked up his sports bag and swung its strap over his shoulder, turning towards the door. There was no point in him trying to choreograph anymore today. His head was spinning and he just wanted a coffee and some toast. Maybe that would stop the twinge in his gut when he looked into those pleading yet defiant eyes. He hadn't eaten breakfast. Yes that had to be it. He'd go eat and then all this would go away.

'Corny! Thanks!' The old familiar voice with a new quavering uncertainty called after him.

'Just be on time!' He called back, striding out of the room. _Collins, what have you gotten himself into he wondered._


	3. Chapter 3- The Argentine Tango

Hi! So here is Chapter 3. I hope that you guys like it. Do pardon any technical errors in dance lingo as I'm not a professional dancer, though I do love taking an occasional ballroom dancing class now and again. Sadly, in real life I have absolutely no ability to distinguish right from left and thus am a hopeless klutz. **Please Please review** as your reviews are what keep me going. More reviews could also spur me on to update faster (wink wink) All constructive feedback is also welcome and I do appreciate all the kind people who have taken the trouble to review, follow or PM me regarding this story. Enjoy!

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><p>Another weekend. Another "closed rehearsal". Bleary-eyed and polystyrene coffee cup in hand, he stood in the corner of the room waiting for Amber to finish her warm-up stretches.<p>

`Thad, why don't we ever learn any other types of dance? You know, something more exciting.'

'Well brat, probably because of your mother.'

Still in the sitting butterfly position, Amber had a faraway look in her eyes. 'Once, when I was younger and we were still a family, we went to Argentina. My dad wanted to go to a ranch and ride horses and climb mountains. I was so excited. I'd never seen anything like it before. And it was so beautiful there. We had a little villa, okay not much more than a shack on a dude ranch. But because my mother was there she insisted I have some local dancing lessons. She said they'd benefit me and I'd only improve from the foreign exposure. But I didn't care. We were all happy together. Its one of my best memories. Come to think of it, she wasn't too thrilled when she learned that the dance teacher taught me the argentine tango though.'

Corny's eyes widened in momentary shock as he blurted out 'Isn't the Argentine tango a little racy for a young girl?'

Amber flashed him a mischievous grin. 'That's exactly what my mother said! But I saw him demonstrating it to an older class and he was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. So I begged him to teach me so that I'd seem more grown-up to him.'

Involuntarily, he burst out laughing. 'So did anything happen?'

Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced sidelong at him. 'A lady never kisses and tells.'

Despite the light-hearted laughter in her eyes, a cold lump suddenly seemed to form up in his gut. Was it because he was thinking of another dancer kissing her? NO. He'd seen Link kiss her a dozen times with no reaction beyond annoyance that they were both shamelessly stealing his spotlight—he meant breaking the concentration of the rest of the cast. Oh yes it was probably because she was sharing a personal memory which included her absent father. As far as he could remember, neither Amber nor her mother had ever mentioned him in his hearing before. That was it. He was just uncomfortable because it was a personal memory…

Caught up as he was in delusional self-justification- _**NO IT WAS A SCIENTIFIC AND LOGICAL DEDUCTION OF THE TRUTH OF HIS PERFECTLY RATIONAL FEELINGS OF DISCOMFORT**_, it took him a while to realise Amber had started speaking again.

'But since I didn't, then I guess I'm free to tell you nothing actually happened. For goodness sakes I was still an adolescent.'

'Yes and now you're a granny with grey hair'

Her reply was to stick out her tongue at him

'Oh yeah. Real maturity there. But clearly your liking for dark-haired dancers goes way back huh?'

Shrieking in indignation, Amber couldn't resist leaping at him, hands outstretched to tickle him mercilessly.

* * *

><p>Their tickle fight ended with him wheedling her to teach him the tango while fending her off with his superior height and weight advantage. As expected, at the chance to boss him around, Amber immediately forgot her exasperation. Suddenly business like, she positioned herself an arm's length away and looked firmly at him.<p>

'Right the tango hold is slightly closer than the traditional ballroom stance. And instead of our backs arching away from each other we need to stand straighter. The arms have to be in as much contact as possible to have a strong line of communication.'

He cleared his throat a little. 'Then don't we need to be closer?' His voice was oddly husky.

'Perhaps a little' she relented.

Sliding his arm around her back he wrapped his arm securely around her. Underneath his hand, he could feel the smooth curve of the expanse between her back and her waist and the indented line of her spine.

He could feel her unconscious shiver at his unusual touch and he strove to keep his voice matter-of-fact and unthreatening. No need to reveal the nerves that were strangely humming in his own body at being this close to her.

'Like this?'

'Yes. That's fine.' Her voice was oddly hoarse. This close to him, she was acutely aware of the gentle rise and fall of his chest every time he inhaled or exhaled. She could feel the radiating warmth of his body and the intoxicating smell of his aftershave. Unconsciously, her breath hitched and she stiffened in his sure hold.

'Don't you need to wrap your arm around my back as well?' he observed blandly.

'We're only just learning basic steps now. I don't think it's really necessary'. _Why was her voice this squeaky?! _Resolutely breathing deeply, she fought to regulate her voice into a calm and professional manner. No need to fawn over him like a lovesick girl. Closing her eyes for a moment, she exhaled, centring herself.

'Okay I'm going to step forward with my left foot first which means you step back with your right. We're going to begin with a five step sequence. So you step back right then immediately step forward right. Now left leg extend left, right leg cross over, left leg back, right leg goes backwards parallel to the right foot, to form the final point of a triangle and finish! Don't worry if you don't get this right the first time.'

He noticed that she soon lost any awkwardness once she started directing him. Inwardly, he smiled at the expression on her face. Her blue eyes were unusually serious and focused on their feet, her mouth was pursed in concentration and her whole attitude was one of determination.

'I think I've got it now. Do you want to try it to some music? I think I've got something that would suit.'

'Alright. Like I said, don't be disappointed if you take a while to get the hang of this.' Her voice was deceptively sweet and patronising. He could see the proud gleam in her eyes at being able to, in her mind, teach the high and mighty Cornelius Thaddeus Collins a thing or two.

Smirking internally, he gently disengaged her hold, and then walked over to his stack of records in the corner of the room. Flipping through them quickly, he selected one and placed in on the record player, before striding back quickly to re-take his stance. _He was going to show her a tango all right._

Amber heard the scratchy strains of the distinctive tango melody float through the air and automatically locked gazes with Corny, straightening her back and shoulders in the correct tango stance. Balancing her weight, she prepared for a slow start and perhaps some stumbling. Counting in the first eight counts, they both froze in position. **1, 2**..Amber's thoughts started rambling. Though Corny was a brilliant dancer, she didn't doubt that it took more than one or two repetitions to master the steps without stepping on your partner's toes. **3, 4, 5**… Smugly, she mentally prepared a list of instructions and kind words to encourage him afterwards. It was such a rare opportunity to be the one calling the shots for a change. **6, 7, 8…**

Precisely on the beat, Corny suddenly extended his back leg, bent his body forwards, lowered his supporting hand on her back and looked right, dropping her into a series of perfect alternating back-dips. _What was going on here?_

Pulling her up suddenly but not urgently, Corny started walking her backwards in a diagonal across the room, adding the characteristic, lightning fast kicks of the argentine tango. Whilst her body automatically followed, leaning on his arm for support and his cues, while swiftly flicking her leg between his legs and then behind her, Amber's mind was still lagging behind in shock. Corny, she had to admit, was a truly gifted dancer. Not that she hadn't known it already, but she had never seen him dance in this style before. He was utterly commanding, intense and sensual. And her body was responding, finding a natural rhythm inside herself, and a sure confidence she rarely felt when performing a routine. As they stepped and circled each other, she found herself smiling and laughing in delight at him, to which his answering smile instantly beamed. Deciding to simply give in to the music and the throbbing of the dance in her blood, she released her hand from his shoulder, indicating she wanted to swing out. Responding to her cue, he extended her arm the same moment she stepped out, before pulling her back in and twirling her a few times. They ended up in a close lock, face-to-face, their noses almost touching and their raised hands firmly interlaced, and their gaze intently on each other's faces as the music ended.

As if awakening from a dream, Amber became aware of the rise and fall of their chests as they panted for breath in tandem. Eyes wide, she gazed up at Corny's face, so near and so intent on hers.

Abruptly he blinked, and as if that broke the spell they were both under, she immediately broke away, stepping back to a more appropriate distance.

* * *

><p>'Why didn't you tell me you already knew the Argentine Tango instead of making me teach you like an idiot?'<p>

She had broken out of his hold and had stepped back a few steps away from him. Remembering the warmth of her breath on his face and the feel of her waist under his hand, he had to determinedly link his arms behind his back to prevent himself from reaching out to her again. _Get a grip on yourself Collins! It was just a dance. And this is Amber Von Tussle we're talking about._

As nonchalant as she was trying to appear, he could see she was feeling uncertain and unsettled at the turn their dance rehearsal had undergone. Her blue eyes were flicking anywhere in the room rather than looking directly at him and her hands like his, were clasped together as if to keep them from shaking.

If he was inclined to clichéd romance novel-vernacular he would have said that she was like a fawn poised to flee. However, all he could think about was the self-assurance in her body, the intensity of her gaze and her irrepressible response to the music when they were dancing. All those hours spent hammering the importance of musicality to her and all it had taken was one tango. So what could he do or say? How could he show her that he was so proud of her. However, a little voice whispered in his ear that if he was completely honest with himself, he would do anything to dance the tango with her again, and not just because of a teacher's natural pride in his pupil. Quickly, he shoved that little annoying voice in his head to the back of my mind. _When I get the time, I'm going to come back and pound you into oblivion with a mallet_. And in a burst of genius, _if I do say so myself Collins_, he said in a deceptively calm manner-

'I think you've just successfully choreographed your first original piece Miss Von Tussle. What about premièring that sometime on the show?'

Instantly her eyes lit up, transforming her once again into an excited schoolgirl. Virtually squealing in excitement she jumped up and down on the spot, bombarding him with questions.

'Do you mean it? Are you serious? When? Are you going to teach the others?'


	4. Chapter 4- Coffee

**Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, favourited or followed this story :) Keep them coming! So looks like things are heating up a bit between Amber and Thad (aka Corny Collins) but neither of them seems to be able to really figure out how they feel yet (wink wink). Anyway, I think it's about time they went on a proper date don't you? So please do review or pm me with your ideas and the person who guesses what they will do/go on their date in the next upcoming chapter correctly gets a prize! Alternately if you want to just comment what your ideal date would be, that works too!**

**And as always, Please Enjoy!**

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><p>'Woah woah slow down!' Laughing at her excitement he put his open palms out as if to prevent her from throwing herself into his arms again at any moment, Amber thought indignantly. Well she wasn't Sure she was excited, but she wasn't that far gone to be susceptible to his supposedly "irresistible charm".<p>

'Look, let's cut practice, go out somewhere and have a coffee or something. I think your first choreographed item calls for a celebration and we both deserve a bit of a break from rehearsal after the hours we've been putting in.'

'I thought the point of us meeting here was to prevent the other council kids and my mum from knowing? Wouldn't gallivanting about town kind of have the opposite effect?' Amber wrinkled her nose. 'And what half-decent place would let you in looking like that?' She looked pointedly at his frayed baseball cap, sweat pants and old, faded tee, one blonde brow sardonically arched.

'Don't worry. I know a place. The only thing is your mother. Is she expecting you back soon?'

Amber gnawed on her lip. She hesitated. If she told him yes, then she'd have an excuse to bail. Somehow the thought of spending time alone with Corny_ -sorry Thad_, was making her nervous. Especially if they'd be sitting across a table from each other with nothing to do but talk. Could she stand it? Remembering the close cinch she'd been in with him just a few minutes earlier was still making her feel off-balance and unsure. And then there were the other council kids. Somehow she didn't really think that going out for coffee with him was exactly kosher. Extra dance rehearsals were one thing. Sure it would be embarrassing if the others found out, but being seen having coffee alone with him would be an altogether different level of awkwardness, one verging on a social taboo. Then again, her mum had flown to Chicago for some kind of job interview. When else would she ever have a chance to just go out and relax without fear of being caught?' With that thought in mind, Amber steeled herself. Surely an hour or so having coffee couldn't be that bad? _Just keep breathing Amber._

'Actually no. She's left town for the weekend. '

'Great, so let's go. We can walk; it's just around the corner from here.'

Panic immediately erupted in her.

'Wait! Corny I might be recognised!'

'Hold your horses. Look just wear my baseball cap and tie up your hair. No one's around this early on a Saturday. They're all sleeping in. And even if they are, no one's going to expect the grand Amber Von Tussle to dress in a baggy off-shoulder sweater with a hole in her sleeve.'

Startled out of her brief moment of panic in spite of herself, Amber chocked back a laugh.

'Hey! Are you making fun of me? Don't think I didn't catch that just because I'm a blonde you know.' Amber growled in mock anger, jabbing a finger at his chest accusingly. She had the pleasure of seeing him back up a few paces.

'Right, sure thing sugar. Now just put on the baseball cap will you?'

Still glowering at him for show, Amber complied. Pulling the brim low over her face to hide it as best she could, she swept up her blonde ponytail and tucked it up as best she could. Thankfully it was a little loose, and she managed to pile most of it on top of her head underneath the cap.

'And Hey Presto! You're incognito! Just like Clark Kent.'

'He wore glasses Corny. Not a baseball cap.'

'Whatever Einstein, same thing. By the way, do you realise you call me Corny when you're annoyed and Thad when you're not?'

'AURGH! Let's just go!'

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><p>Laughing, Corny viewed her retreating form as she stormed away from him, arms thrown up in the air over her head in frustration. He knew she wasn't really angry though. However, his prized mega-watt smile temporarily flickered at a thought- <em>When along the way had he learnt to read Amber Von Tussle so well?<em> And w_hen had he even started to care so much what she thought and felt?_

Her brief reverie was broken when Amber abruptly turned back to see why he wasn't following. Hands on her hips she yelled across the empty sound stage 'Well are you coming?'

'Don't know the way do you your Highness?' _Then again, it was just too much fun getting under her skin, _he reflected as he strolled after her_._

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><p>'Right so this is it?' Amber asked wryly as she slid into the booth across from him, She was in a greasy fry-up diner, the red leather of the seat was cracked and there was salt spilled across the cheap table top that someone had neglected to clean. Loud music of dubious origin blasted from a jukebox in the corner and the smell of frying eggs permeated the room. Looking around she observed that the only other patrons seemed to be old men of retirement age and one would-be drunkard nursing a hangover at the counter with a mug of coffee.<p>

Amber might have left there and then if a red-headed waitress hadn't immediately sidled up to them with a menu. Waving it away, Corny smiled engagingly at her. 'We'll have two coffees and some French Toast with maple syrup please'.

'Did you just order for me?' Amber asked indignantly. 'I didn't even get a chance to look at a menu!'

'Those are the house specials, you have to try them. Besides, I did tell that it would be fine and no one you knew would recognise you here didn't I?'

About to offer an angry retort to what she thought about arrogant-dance-show-hosts-who-went-around-pressuring-you-to-follow-them-to-seedy-diners-and-then-ordered-for-you-without-asking-you-what-you-wanted-first Amber opened her mouth to respond. However, Corny continued unheedingly 'Actually, this is where I used to come when I first came to Baltimore and I was low on cash.'

Amber instantly felt contrite. Glancing up, she could now see that behind the usual mocking bravado in his expression there was uncertainty lurking in his eyes. _Should I have brought you here?_ They seemed to say. Her memory immediately flashed back to that brief moment when he had told her about his runaway past and his dreams of stardom.

She smiled, hoping to make up for her words before. 'This is great. I've never realised that there was this place so close to the studio. Thad, I'm glad you brought me here. Honestly.'

Still looking somewhat hesitant he said 'When I looked through the window, I used to see studio executives passing by and I knew that one day I was going to be like them. But until I got my big break this was all I could afford. The coffee's not bad either. '

Just then, two plates of food and two steaming mugs of coffee arrived with cream and sugar on a small tray. Amber bravely took one chipped, white enamel mug and looked into the brown murky depths.

'We can go somewhere else if you prefer.' This last was said with an inquiring look.

Amber smiled encouragingly, looking up at his anxious green eyes- _How had she never noticed before what a vivid shade of emerald they were? _Looking at him from above the rim of the mug with the shabby diner as a backdrop, she could imagine the poor country boy he must have been. A poor boy with dreams, and ambition and talent. But still, a lonely kid all alone in a city with not enough money and no one to turn to. The image somehow brought a lump to her throat. Nobody seeing him on stage in his pressed suits, immaculately coiffed hair and confidence as he flirted with the make-up women and even to some extent the girls on the show, she admitted to herself, could imagine his struggle to get to the top. The suave dance moves, film star smile (how those girls dropped like flies before it) and good looks made it seem like success had simply fallen into his lap. But it hadn't Maybe that was why he sympathised and fought so hard for others who were marginalised. People like Maybelle and Seaweed and the other black council kids, who were just as hungry to dance as the white ones. But with infinitely less money and opportunity. The realisation of how badly she'd really mistreated them in the past, and her mother's misinterpretation of his sympathy made her cringe inwardly. How could he even stand to be around her now? But he was still looking at her with that half-cocky, half-doubtful look.

To reassure him, she stirred in cream and sugar (no low-fat milk and zero-calorie sugar substitute here she was guessing), then bravely took a sip. Instantly, the strong flavour of fresh-brewed coffee burst in her mouth, but with a much richer, and delicately hued subtlety then she had ever tasted before. She gasped, then immediately took another sip. Again that delicious assault on her taste buds began as the intricate flavours danced across her tongue.

Eyes wide she looked straight at him in amazement. 'This coffee is amazing!' Her tone and face left no doubt that she was telling the truth.

Laughing at her stunned, blissful expression, Corny said 'Yes I think they roast and brew their own coffee here according to some family recipe. I reacted exactly the same way the first time I tried it if I recall correctly.'

'So is there anything I need to know about the French Toast before I dig in? Any secret French family techniques that were passed down from ancient times that have gone into this?'

'No it's just French Toast. Above average but still pretty standard.'

'Right I'll test that theory.' Smiling, he watched as she dug in with gusto, all teasing remarks silenced for a while as Amber applied herself fully to her food.

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><p>A while later, he pushed away his plate and sat back. Unexpectedly, Amber had finished before him and had then insisted on a second cup of coffee, which she was now sipping leisurely.<p>

Curious, he asked 'So, where's your mother? It's not like Velma to be out of town and leave you alone at home is it?'

Amber made a face. 'Well it's not like we spend that much quality time at home together anyway. It's been a bit…tense…since she got fired. I'm sure you can imagine.'

Yes he could. A pissed-off Velma Von Tussle with nothing to do all day except sit around at home and criticise her only daughter from the side-lines rather than from her former position of power at the network, which she had exploited for years. He felt a rush of sympathy for Amber's predicament. 'I'm sorry Amber.'

'No it's fine.' She waved his apology away. 'But anyway she's flown to Chicago for a job interview. I'm not sure what it's for since she's been quite tight-lipped about it. She's planning to stay there till Monday though.'

Suddenly, an old white-haired man walked through the door and Amber exclaimed in recognition. Immediately, she stood up and made her way over to the booth he'd settled in near the door. Corny started in amazement that she'd actually met someone she knew and that even more surprisingly she was talking to him with genuine warmth on her face. Tempted to stroll over to listen to their conversation, he nonetheless restrained himself and remained seated. Instead, he watched the play of happiness over Amber and the old man's faces. They had their heads tilted close together and at something he said, she threw her head back and let out a delicate peal of laughter. The warmth and beauty of her laugh warmed him like the beams of the summer sun through the window. However, it also made him realise how guarded she was normally. Even around him she still hadn't felt comfortable enough to let that mask drop fully. But her laugh and smile were contagious. He only wished he had been the one that had made her that happy. Intent on this thought, he jumped when they both looked over at him, the man giving him a warm smile and a little wave. Unsure, he waved in reply as Amber made her way back to him.

'Who was that?' he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, but trying to go for a deceptively casual tone, _Nice try Collins_.

'Oh that was Sid. He's a security guard at the studio. Don't you recognise him? He's been there since I was a little girl.'

Abashed, Corny took a closer look at him, and realised he did indeed know the man. However, Amber was still prattling on. 'He used to keep candies in his pocket for me, because he knew I wasn't allowed them at home. And when my mother scolded me I used to hide out at his guard box. He was grandchildren whom he's helping to put through college. His grandson just got into Harvard!'

A cold puddle of disappointment that despite everything he knew Amber had never prattled on about him as enthusiastically as she was going on about the old security guard began to form in the pit of his stomach. He desperately wanted to be the one to make her light up like that. _Not getting into this a bit too deep are you Collins? Wanting to impress her and all you've done is bring her to a dirty diner less than two hundred metres from the studio where she has numerous unhappy memories that involve you and her mother._ Said the Little Voice in his head. _Shut up_, he told the Little Voice. _I'll show you just watch._

'You know what. This hasn't really been the most celebratory place has it? I'm sorry Amber.'

'No don't worry about it. I really enjoyed myself. And I hardly get to go anywhere when my mother's around so even this is a treat. Really.' She smiled at him, as if trying to convince him of the sincerity of her words.

However, the very thought of her saying that having coffee in a run-down diner disguised in a baseball cap was a "treat" was so…well pathetic. And he had promised himself to make her laugh, at least just once, like she had with Sid. Half-expecting to be turned down flat he ventured,

'Look. Let's go somewhere else then. Somewhere nice where you can really relax without being afraid of being seen with me. I'm not promising you The Ritz mind, but I think I have a good idea of some place you might enjoy. After all, we still need to work out the details of your routine and when we're going to showcase it. I'll pick you up tomorrow evening at five? But dress simply!'

He was astounded when she said yes.


	5. Chapter 5 - Getting Ready

**Hi! SORRY that I've been inactive for a while. Exams really made me put everything else on hold. Now that I've got more free time, hopefully updates will be speeding along. I know you guys have waited quite a long time for this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! As always, thanks so much for reading and keep reviewing! :)**

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><p>At precisely four o'clock the next day Corny Collins stepped into the shower. After absently shampooing and rinsing his hair three times in quick succession by accident whilst thinking about the date ahead – <strong><em>he meant SURVIVING the casual outing between friends that was definitely NOT a date<em>**, shaving and brushing his signature pearly whites, he emerged from the shower after thirteen minutes. He then spent a fraught fifteen minutes deciding what to wear. After he had tried on and discarded a plaid shirt (too lumberjack), white shirt (too stuffy), black shirt (wasn't a funeral), green polo (was he thirteen? But it did match his eyes hmmm…), white pants (he wasn't playing golf) and jeans (too casual) he finally settled on a pair of slate grey chinos and a blue shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up and no jacket or tie. Shoes were another issue which he solved by wearing deck shoes and no socks. Now hair- **_AURGH HAIR_**. _Well a LITTLE hairspray never hurt anyone did it_? Finally, snagging a pair of sunglasses and taking a last look at himself in the mirror Corny Collins calmly strolled out the door to his car at thirty- three minutes past four, only to rush back into the house to frantically find his forgotten wallet. At precisely thirty-seven minutes past four he finally got into his car with a sigh of relief and started the engine.

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><p>At four o'clock in her pink frilly room, Amber Von Tussle fell back dramatically onto her pink, frilly, canopied bed. <em>What had she gotten herself into?! <em>This was Corny Collins, The man who had mocked her on the show day-in, day-out. He'd hated her mother for her constant interference and racist attitude and that hatred, albeit in a slightly watered down form, had been naturally extended to Amber. Especially when she persistently won Miss Teenage Hairspray for four consecutive years. As they got older, the council kids had gotten more cut-throat and competitive, more resentful of the blatant favouritism shown to Amber and more open about their disdain for her. Accordingly, for she refused to become an isolated object of pity, Amber became more and more adept at her Ice Princess mask. No one could know how much at times, she hated the show, hated the pageants - and even sometimes hated her mother.

Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Amber swung her legs in a decidedly unladylike manner (her mother would NOT approve) as she let her gaze wander from the open doors of her walk-in-wardrobe – filled with floor length mirrors and overflowing with dresses, to the custom-made white painted wooden vanity and dresser. She really ought to decide what to wear and start work on her hair as well. It was hanging down her back and half-dry after her shower while she was wearing an old blue cotton frock which was worn and soft from countless wears. But, looking around the huge room decorated with all manner of stuffed animals, silver frames and frills. Amber felt the usual pang of sadness she always felt at the emptiness. The flowers, though beautiful were all fake. The frames held nothing but posed shots of herself in full dance regalia, or movie stars and dancers. There was not a single personal shot in the room. No dishevelled faces at a picnic or the beach. No muddy romps with a puppy or a family at Christmas around a lighted tree. Instead, from all four magnolia walls, and every available crammed surface, beautiful, made-up faces smiled and smirked and smouldered at her in turn.

Her room before this had been smaller, and drabber but altogether happier. From her old room in their old house, she could hear her parents chatter on long after she had been sent to bed. The sounds of the gramophone would drift through her floorboards, accompanied by the clicking of her mother's heels and her father's deep laugh as they circled the living room below in an endless dance, becoming the throbbing pulse of her very dreams.

And then one day, for a reason Amber was never able to discover, her father had left and not ever come home. At first her mother had cried, endlessly, heartbreakingly. But then, when Amber had tried to comfort her, instead of holding her like the mother she had been before, this new mother pushed her away and snapped at her to stand up straight- she wasn't raising a hooligan for a daughter. Confused and hurt, Amber had crept upstairs to wait at the window, waiting for her father to return. But from downstairs, the gramophone had been silent and there was no laughter or soft chattering, only a complete and ominous silence.

Within a week, Velma Von Tussle had packed up the house, thrown away all her father's pictures and possessions and moved to Baltimore, back to her parents' house. Though Nana and Grandpa had been considerate, in an aloof kind of way, it was not long before they had peacefully passed away, and the rambling family mansion had come to Velma, their only daughter.

From then on, as if the loss of these last vestiges of love had also extinguished any human sympathy, Velma Von Tussle became the woman Corny had learnt to hate, and her daughter had learnt to fear. Her ambition, previously off-set by a loving family, became the sole driving purpose in her life as Velma swiftly rose through the ranks of network television, using her looks, money and intimidating personality to achieve her goals by any means. In turn her pushing of Amber became fanatical. But the unconditional love that had once been there, that had made her mother's determination a support rather than oppression, was no longer there. And then it had all come crashing down on them. _Mother, what are you going to do now_? Amber silently wondered, and- _Can we go back to being a family again? _The last longing thought rose unbidden in her mind as she stared out the window. Suddenly, she saw an unfamiliar car pull into the front driveway. _Noooo he was here already. But she hadn't even changed! __**AURGHHHH!**_Cursing herself for letting her thoughts wander for so long she hesitated between her closet and her room door. _She could let him wait outside while she dressed herself properly…but it would take ages. Ok Amber focus now. What is worse? Going downstairs in this old frock and your hair down or spending forty minutes primping properly and letting him believe that you did it for his sake. _After a last look in the mirror at her dratted hair,_ there was really not much she could do at this point_, Amber bit her lip determinedly grabbed her purse and headed downstairs.

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><p>Ha! Simple. As he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel he wondered if she knew what that word meant. And alright true, she seemed much less uptight about her rehearsal gear. But he couldn't shake the notion that Amber-in-public was still all about appearances.<p>

He heard footsteps coming towards him, crunching on the gravel. Right, he would turn around and she would be wearing an ostrich feather boa and a skirt so tight she wouldn't be able to walk. He turned his head and caught his breath as he drank in the sight of her. She was wearing a short-sleeved sky blue dress which matched her eyes. With over-sized buttons down the front and a peter pan collar in the same material, it was in theory, a very demure dress. But without all the usual frilly crinolines and petticoats underneath, the worn cotton clung to her legs in a somewhat indecent fashion. _Keep your mind out of the gutter Collins_. Just then a gust of wind blew, moulding the thin material against her slender form as she walked towards him. He swallowed. Hard. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower and was hanging down her back and over her shoulder in tight waves. He'd never realised how naturally wavy her hair was. Typically it was up in all sorts of complicated up-dos or tied tightly back while she was rehearsing.

She opened the door and slid into the car without a trace of self-consciousness. After a pause, she turned to look at him, raising a brow questioningly. 'Well, are we going?' _Right, so that made it just him staring like a moronic idiot then. _

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><p><strong>PLEASE TYPE YOUR THOUGHTS IN THE LITTLE BOX AND HIT REVIEW :D<strong>


	6. Chapter 6 - The Date

**I'm so sorry for the long delay! Life caught up with me in the form of exams but I am now keen to push on with this :) Thanks to all my faithful readers who kept encouraging me and following this story. You really keep me going and you guys are just totally awesome (Starkidpotter reference for those of you who knew about Darren Criss before he was famous)! **

**And as always, if you enjoy the story do Favourite, Follow and Review, Review, Review! (Pretty Please? Reviews make me smile!)**

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><p>They were seated at a small table al fresco on a wooden dock over the breakwater. Though the boards were worn with paint chipping away and only thick, coarse rope connecting the posts on the balustrade, the fairy lights and bright flags that had been strung around the top poles gave the place a cheerful and comfortable feel. A brightly lettered sign over the wide open service windows, through which the busy, steaming kitchen could be seen, proclaimed it to be 'O' Neill's Daily Catch- Best Seafood in Town!' Waitresses in bright turquoise skirts and white aprons bustled around with heavy trays. Old men smoked pipes as children chattered loudly to their parents over steaming piles of crabs and lobsters and golden fries.<p>

When she'd first seen this place, stepping out of Corny's- _no, __**Thad's**_ car she'd hesitated. This establishment was certainly not something her mother would approve of. But her mother wasn't here was she?

_Amber, stop it!_ She chided herself. _Don't let mother get to you. You're finally out somewhere instead of being forced to practice your dance steps in your bedroom and all you can do is think about your mother?_

When she'd walked out of the house, for a moment, in her old dress and un-styled hair she'd felt like Cinderella, sitting in the ashes before the fairy godmother had arrived to transform her dress. She'd held her head high as she'd walked down the drive of her house, just waiting for a sidelong smirk or a snide comment about her shoddy appearance. Amber Von Tussle, Ice Princess, looking like a kitchen waif as she slid into his car.

But when she'd finally mustered up the courage to turn and face him, his mouth was hanging slightly ajar and there was some kind of…shock in his eyes. And it had seemed as if….as if, just for a **second**, he'd been lost for words. But no. That was impossible. _Come on Amber! This is Corny Collins , Mr-nothing-ever-fazes-me-even-on-live-television-and-my-comebacks-come-out-in-rhymed-couplets Corny Collins._

But then she had blinked and the moment had passed.

_But she wasn't on a date with Corny Collins was she? No wait she wasn't on a date at all! Not not __**NOT**__ a date. A friendly outing, with a friend, whose name was Thad. Because he wasn't the host of the show she worked on. No. he was just a friend. This was just an outing. Which just happened to be alone. With Thad. Who was a friend._

And as she looked at him, sitting next to her, casually fresh in his rolled up shirt sleeves and deck shoes, the sun shining into her face making him all hazy, his dark eyes _– GREEN eyes. Like the sea under a dock_, staring at her, she felt a pounding in her head which seemed to spread to somewhere alarmingly in her chest. Afraid she'd blush from embarrassment if she looked at him any longer, she abruptly turned to face the front of the windshield, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he started the car without a word.

Then, three songs on the radio and ten minutes later, he suddenly cleared his throat. Amber tensed in her seat, waiting for the snarky cut-down. But all he said was.

' You look…very different.'

She blinked in confusion. _Different? Was that some kind of code word? He hadn't said she looked bad. But it wasn't like he said she was beautiful. Not that she wanted him to say that she was. Beautiful. Because she didn't care. At All._

In slight bewilderment, finding it hard to phrase a coherent sentence with all that running in her mind all that came out of her mouth was- ' Thanks Thad…You look very…very….clean.'

'Erm. Thanks.'

That had been the only thing he had said to her over the hour drive, his eyes hidden behind mirrored shades, as she'd watched the road melt away into the setting sun in front of her as they drove along the coast towards the sea.

And once they'd been led to a table for two right at the edge of the dock, over-looking the beach as the sunset bathed it in a warm, orange glow, she'd had to admit to herself that this place wasn't all that bad. Especially, as she sat with an ever-growing mound of crab shells in front of her, cracking away merrily to get at the flesh with no one to tell her in cutting tones - '**Amber! Sit up straight, wipe your mouth. Remember, chew like you have a secret'**…why was she so fat? Why was she so thin? She shouldn't eat dessert and certainly no fries!

But what would Miss Baltimore Crabs think of her now? Amber had to stifle a laugh at the thought of her mother's obsession over her beauty queen title- _The number of times she'd stared off dramatically into the foreground as she recited her self-figured moment of triumph as the other council kids had looked on with rolling eyes._

And all to win a crown of CRABS – the very hapless crustacean being hacked into pieces in her hands. At that she couldn't control the inelegant choked laugh that came out of her mouth. She was wearing a huge white tie-on bib, she had remnants of crab meat and grease all over her fingers and her nose was smarting like she had a sunburn, but she couldn't remember being happier than this in a long, long time.

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><p>He'd never heard a sound like that come out of Amber Von Tussel's mouth. It sounded like a cross between a snort and a half-swallowed chortle. How did you do both at the same time? She was wearing a comical white-tie up bib that could probably have doubled as a sail for a small boat, her fingers were greasy from the crab and she held a crab cracker determinedly in both hands like a demented hillbilly child given their first dangerous weapon at Christmas. She should have looked ridiculous. But all he could think was that he'd never seen her look this <em><strong>real<strong>_. Or adorable.

At that second though he felt an urgent need to pound his head on the table. If it hadn't been likewise covered in crab shells.

_What the hell are you doing Collins! All that hairspray must be getting to your brain. You do NOT think Amber is adorable. No. never. She is a __**brat**__. You've started to treat her as a human being and that's all well and good. But that's where it ends! Got that Collins? Just sit there, and talk about the weather. Just don't ask her anything personal. _

' So. Amber. How's it going with the other Council Kids now?'

'It doesn't matter. They're just the same. You know what it's like. Most of the girls…Well...It's only…'

She paused, looking down at her plate and the brightness drained out of her face.

_Dammit Collins. _For some reason he felt a strange desire to put his hand over hers. But given that they were covered in crab gunk he settled for a reassuring smile and a sympathetic tone.

'Hey hang in there. Sticks and stones right?'

She smiled at that phrase. But it was a half-hearted one. Nothing like the one she'd worn a minute ago. Feeling like an ogre for bringing up the last thing she wanted to talk about he apologised- 'I'm sorry Amber. I know they're giving you a tough time. Look we can talk about something else.'

She looked up and smiled hesitantly. For one heartbeat their eyes met and he felt warmth melt through his whole body.

Suddenly she blurted out. 'Yes they are. But that's not the worst. The truth is I'm ashamed. Of how I treated them. Especially Inez and Tracy. Inez...She's actually been very…kind to me. I treated people like her and Tracy like dirt, but they're the ones who are the nicest to me now. It's kind of ironic isn't it? How bad a judge of character I really was…It's still a bit awkward to be honest. We avoid each other. I haven't really spoken to her or Link privately since the whole…Miss Hairspray Fiasco. I don't know if I fully forgive her for shaming me. And she knows it. But I also know she doesn't truly hate me. She's got a big heart.'

She paused a bit, but the words were coming out now, like a train rolling along a track.

'And she can dance. She can dance in a way I will never be able to. It's like it's as natural as breathing to her. I…I hated that when I first saw her. Well, I admit I found it funny the way she looked, and her size and how loud she was. But why I was really mean to her was because despite everything, she still seemed so happy. I worked for so long to be perfect. But I wasn't happy. And to see someone, who my mother despised, who never practiced till her feet bled or had to diet all her life, who had _real friends_ and got so much **JOY** from dancing. So much Joy from **life**! I hated that. I was so **jealous**. And every time my mother saw someone pay Tracy a compliment she'd push me harder. **Do you want to be beaten by that whale? **She'd tell me. And then she'd make me skip dinner and practice some more.'

At that, he couldn't prevent a growl, deep in his throat at the thought of Amber's mother. Sure she hated him and he'd hated her in turn, but what she did to Amber was evil. _What about the things you said to her yourself Collins? _whispered the Little Voice in his head. _No! Shut up! That was…different. That had been before, when she's been a mini-Velma clone and not….Amber._

'She's a tyrant. Don't listen to her. Anyway you can dance now can't you? So really you can go home and tell that battle-ax its all her fault and I'm a better teacher'

At that she burst into laughter. 'Thad!'

He'd never thought hearing his name could make him smile. But it did when she said it like that, as if he made her happy.

She went on, more soberly.

'I wonder about Brenda you know. What happened to her, after my mother made her leave. Do you know what happened to her? Where she is now? All the girls know is that her parents took her away from school after…well you know.'

At that, he could feel the smile on his mouth freeze. There was a fist of uneasiness uncurling in his stomach, and his heart was suddenly like a rock. _No. He wouldn't think about that here_. Not in front of Amber, with her wide-eyed stare. There had been another pair of eyes once, dark brown, snapping and saucy, as if they'd always known a secret that they might let you in on. Darkly dangerous eyes, and nothing like the big blue ones looking up at him now, innocently as if he knew all the answers. _No, stop it Collins!_

'Thad? Thad are you alright?'

He came out of his reverie to see her looking at him in concern.

He forced his already-strained smile even wider and said in a tone of false jollity.

' Let's talk about something else.'

Acquiescing, she decided to change the subject. 'What would you be if you weren't a dance show host?'

Gratefully, he tried to regain a sense of normalcy. Stalling for time he said 'I don't really know. What would you be if you weren't a dancer?

'I'd be a journalist.'

That surprised him. Looking at his taken aback expression, she smiled mischievously.

'My favourite subject in school is Advanced English. I'm not a dumb blonde you know.'

' Well you could have fooled me' he muttered under his breath, smirking.

'What?' she asked. 'You mean Shakespeare and all that?' he asked in a much louder tone of voice.

'Why does everyone always talk about Shakespeare? Yes I love reading his plays. But there's so many other good writers and poets! Like Coleridge, Milton, Wordsworth, Dylan Thomas…' The indignant expression on her face made him want to laugh aloud.

'Do not go gentle into that good night right? Rage, rage against the dying of the light. All that stuff?'

'How'd you know that?'

'I did go to school you know, you smart Alec. I'm not a philistine. And I didn't _**just shake it, shake it, shake it, till I lost my mind**_.'

* * *

><p>By the time she'd stopped laughing at his sudden outbreak into song and cheesy grin, she realised that the sun had gone down fully and the night was deepening. Most of the famalies had left the porch and only couples like her and Thad – <em>no Amber. You're NOT a couple!<em> were left.

The waitresses had come out with tapers and were lighting small candles in glass holders on the remaining tables. The small flames flickering in the sea breeze cast shadows and sheets of wavering light across the faces. She felt pulled into this intimate circle of candle light, the small puddle of light at their table.

In that circle of candlelight, of trust she couldn't help saying - 'This has been a perfect evening. I wish it didn't have to end.'

However, with a smirk he replied 'Who says it has to? Come on, there's a staircase over there. Let's go take a walk on the beach.'

She looked dubiously at the small rickety staircase leading crookedly down the rocks, hidden at one corner of the dock a few meters away from them. The beach, barely in sight below was empty and dark, the waves beating a tattoo on the shore as the whisper of them sounded in her ears.

'Come on!' he cajoled, 'they'd have roped it off if it was really that unsafe. Look, give me your hand.'

She hesitated. She'd been hand-in-hand with him countless times at countless dance rehearsals. He'd offered it to her live when she fell down and Link had left her on the floor. But this time it felt different.

'Amber.'

'Yes?' She looked up into his face, leaning across the table towards her.

'Do you trust me?' he asked her. His voice was soft, yet oddly serious at the same time.

_Yes_, she thought. _I do_. But without saying the words, she simply held out her hand to him, feeling the surety in his grip as his hand gently grasped hers.


End file.
